


Hush Little Wolf

by stileskolpath



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Based on a Tumblr Post, Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski Feels, Derek Loves Stiles, Established Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Stiles Feels, Stiles Loves Derek, Stilinski Family Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-16
Updated: 2013-09-16
Packaged: 2017-12-26 18:09:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/968713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stileskolpath/pseuds/stileskolpath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Stiles was younger, he used to have a little wolf. </p><p>Stiles took him everywhere.</p><p>For the most part though, Stiles relies on another wolf to protect him these days.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hush Little Wolf

**Author's Note:**

> This work can be found with it's accompanying fanart (not by me) here: http://watchthewolvesrun.tumblr.com/post/60913350485/when-stiles-was-younger-he-used-to-have-a-little

When Stiles was younger, he used to have a little wolf. It was a small, plushie, gray-and-white thing, forever propped up on sitting hind legs, staring at him with beady little black palstic eyes underneath tufted ears. Its mouth sat closed, which he always thought was odd, as most stuffed animals were forever open-mouthed, wagging a ridiculous fabric tongue or something. This one though, it almost looked dignified sitting there, its fluffy gray tail wrapped around its feet. His name was Wolfie.

Stiles took him everywhere. He came to the grocery store with him and his mom, outside when he wanted a friend to play with, and into his bed at night to guard Stiles against the dark and the monsters that he knew were there. He would hold the little wolf close and nuzzle up against him, and his mom found that he slept better when he was curled around him.

And as he got older, Stiles sort of outgrew his little friend. Wolfie spent more time sitting on his bed than it did in his arms, keeping silent vigil over his room when he wasn’t there rather than playing outside with him. Sometimes though, when Stiles felt lonely, because the other kids at school didn’t like him, or called him names, he would give the wolf a quick hug, and he would feel a little better.

It wasn’t until Stiles was ten years old, and his mom got sick, that he started sleeping with Wolfie again. One night, he had heard his mom quietly sobbing through the wall, almost as if she was trying to be silent. It was one of those nights when Stiles hadn’t been able to sleep. He had quietly eased out of his bed and pushed open the door on his parents’ room.

"Mom, what’s wrong?"

Claudia Stilinski sniffled, stiffening at the sound of her son’s voice. She was sitting on her side of the bed, doing her best to make invisible any signs that tears had been streaming down her face only moments before.

"Nothing baby, what are you doing up?"

"I couldn’t sleep. An- And I heard you crying." Stiles’ little voice was searching, trying to understand what was going on.

"It’s nothing honey, just a bad dream." Even in the dark, Stiles could see her smile warmly at him. Funny thing was, to him, it also looked a little sad. She had walked him back into his room that night, and Stiles had complained that he didn’t need to be tucked in, that he was a big kid. And his mom had smiled again and said "yeah, you are," her voice giving out a little as she said the words. And when she saw the little wolf lying on the floor, she had picked him up, and asked Stiles if he wanted to sleep with him.

Stiles had nodded quietly, and it made Claudia smile, because her big kid was still just a little boy at heart. She didn’t want him to grow up just yet. There would be plenty of that later, she knew. For now, she was happy to see her son as the little kid who still needed the little wolf to protect him from the dark. She smiled. Stiles liked it when she smiled, even if it did look a little sad.

He slept soundly the rest of that night, little wolf wrapped in his arms.

But there were other nights, when Stiles couldn’t sleep, mind and body jittery for no real reason. He still heard the occasional quiet sob from his parents’ bedroom though, and on those nights, he held Wolfie close, and told himself she was just having another bad dream.

And when she had to go to the hospital, the little wolf came with Stiles when he went to see her. When he would fall asleep in the chair next to her bed, it was by his side.

The night that she had died, Stiles had left the little guy in her bed, some part of him convinced that it would make her feel better as he nodded off to sleep in the chair next to where his dad was supposed to be. When he woke up, the little wolf was back in his arms, and Stiles remembered thinking that she had put it there somehow. But that was before the cacophony of sounds began to pour from the medical equipment in the room, and doctors and nurses poured in the door. Stiles remembered a slight twinge of fear as the soft, firm hands of a nurse gently waking him up and helping him into a couch in the hallway as the room began to bustle with activity.

He didn’t really know what was going on, as he was still half-asleep, so he nuzzled close to the wolf, and closed his eyes. He was out in seconds. It wasn’t until his dad got there and shook him awake, that he had found out what happened, and he had cried for days.

Those were the nights where even dreams had him in tears. He would find himself alone, hugging his knees in an empty room, his eyes cheeks flushed with the hot pain of sadness. And for what seemed like years, Stiles would cry into himself, wishing that he had something to hold him, to make him feel better, to bring his mom back. His tears dried in streaks down his cheeks.

That was when the wolf showed up. Tentatively, padding on little, wide paws, it had sidled up to him, sniffing a path across the floor. At the sounds of his sobbing, the wolf perked up his tufted little ears. Stiles didn’t notice until it gave a short, quiet little whimper, looking at him with beautiful, golden-black eyes. Somehow, they looked like they knew. Like they understood. 

Even as it sniffed closer, Stiles couldn’t suppress his sobs. He buried his face back into his knees as they wracked his body anew. The odd little visitor waited for a second, a short, questioning groan easing from its throat before easing closer, cautiously, his cold, pestering nose was sniffing, grazing Stiles’ arm, then the side of his face. Stiles looked up, making to shoo him away.

Then the little wolf had licked the red streaks where the tears had been falling down Stiles’ face. Like he wanted them to go away. Like he wanted Stiles to stop crying.

Then it nuzzled Stiles’ cheek, the familiar feel of his rough, touch-worn fur flashing recognition into Stiles’ mind. Wolfie. The little animal made a happy sound, and wagged his tail. Stiles smiled sadly, and the wolf moaned in dislike. He nudged the human’s arm gently, and perked up his ears again. So Stiles wrapped his arms around it and pulled it close, feeling the little animal’s body hum against his own. The tears still came, but at least now Stiles wasn’t alone when they did.

—

All these years later, Stiles still missed his mom. It hit him each year around the time of her birthday, getting worse after everything with the darach had happened last year. Sometimes he had nightmares that he would barely remember, other times he would wake up in tears, the ghost of his mom’s last moments fading from his mind. The little, stuffed wolf that kept him company when he was younger was still around, but he didn’t help the human sleep anymore. He sat on Stiles’ nightstand, keeping an eternal vigil over the bed that he had once shared with the human.

For the most part, Stiles relied on another wolf to protect him these days. He was bigger, his hair black, his eyes a bright, piercing blue, and he always looked angry. A growl was never far from his lips, particularly when Stiles was getting on his nerves.

And at night, when Stiles was tossing and turning, the bigger wolf was there. In the darkness, Stiles would always find him with his fingers and wrap himself around him. And the tossing and the turning would stop. The nightmares would cease to exist. The tears would dry. And Stiles would be able to sleep. Because his guardian, his wolf, his Derek was close. And when he was close, when Stiles’ arms were wrapped around him, like they used to wrap around Wolfie, all the sadness and pain that Stiles felt went away.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I know it seemed sad, but Stiles had Derek in the end (well, actually, he had him the whole time, he just didn't know it yet) so it is a happy ending, I think.
> 
> But hey, that's just me.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it.
> 
> Feel free to stop by my tumblr to see the rest of my Sterek obsession at watchthewolvesrun.tumblr.com.
> 
> I swear the rest of it is not this sad. Really.


End file.
